


Chocolate Frogs

by MeTheMermaid



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 4: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, F/M, Yule Ball (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:53:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26289781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeTheMermaid/pseuds/MeTheMermaid
Summary: Why did Ron and Hermione conveniently return to civility following the Yule Ball, never again mentioning their horrible row?The ball is mercifully over, and Ron has sent a weary Harry to bed. He's anxiously waiting for Hermione in the deserted common room. When she arrives, still fuming at his behavior, he finally makes a confession.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33





	Chocolate Frogs

"Next time there's a ball, ask me before someone else does, and not as a last resort!"

"Well," he sputtered, looking thunderstruck, "well -- that just proves -- completely missed the point --"

Harry grabbed a hold of the mildewy shoulder of Ron’s dress robes and forcefull yanked him up the marble staircase. As he let Harry steer him towards the dormitory, Ron felt his stomach lurch at the sight of Hermione sinking onto a step, burying her head in her hands. It was bad enough to see her cry. But knowing he was the cause was proving almost unbearable.

She hated him. She truly, truly hated him.

Except she didn’t hate him at all. That was the problem, wasn’t it?

No. She DEFINITELY hated him.

Hermione stifled a scream of frustration through gritted teeth. Being confused was not something she was used to. Nor was it a feeling she enjoyed. But the past few months had proved to be some of the most confusing of her life. Ever since she’d arrived at The Burrow, she couldn’t find her usual comfort or ease around her best friend. Avoiding her eye contact or moving a few inches away any time she stood next to him were just a few of the annoying habits he’d picked up over the summer. And he seemed more critical of her than ever lately, which for Ron, was really saying something. It was infuriating! How could she be so unwanted by someone she trusted so much??

Did she smell? Don’t be ridiculous, she thought. I am an EXPERT bather. I bathe more than he does, surely! He smells awful half the time and I can still bear to be around him! 

Oh, Merlin… What if it was something worse? She felt a terrible ache in her stomach as the thought occurred to her. Had he decided he no longer liked her, as his best friend? After three years of knowing her, had she proved to be too much for him? Too bossy? Too demanding? Too focused? Maybe she was too serious….. Or perhaps worst of all, too clever? 

The thoughts floated through her mind with unnerving ease, like a river rounding a familiar corner, because these were her deepest, oldest insecurities. These were the ones she was too frightened to ever voice herself. Others had said them about her, of course, almost as far back as she could remember. Snape had called her an “insufferable know-it-all” in front of an entire class last year. 

But hadn’t Ron defended her then? 

As a new wave of confusion washed over her, fresh, hot tears stung at the corners of her eyes. She grasped her unusually smooth hair in tight fists, remembering with a touch of revulsion how much time she had spent on it that evening. 

Well, if Ron wanted to act like the biggest prat at Hogwarts, that was his business! Because if there was one thing Hermione Granger was sure of, it’s that she had no intention of changing to please anyone. Smooth hair notwithstanding. 

She stood so quickly that a small group of Ravenclaw girls further down the step flinched and stared up at her. Hermione noticed that they were all crying as well, so she hardened her face at them, as if to say, “To hell with them, girls!” But as she ascended the marble staircase, she realized she had more likely communicated unwarranted anger than any female solidarity.

She reached the portrait hole having paid no attention to her chosen route, as she had instead raged, quite specifically, on the obnoxious appearance of Ronald Weasley the entire journey. For example, the way his hair fell in his eyes all the time, even after he bothered to have it cut! Or how his laugh caused his long, freckled nose to crinkle, making one giant, glaring copper sea stretch across the center of his face. And how when he smiled, the left corner of his mouth always rose a little bit higher than the right, defying all laws of symmetry and order.

UGH, he was SO ANNOYING!!

She stumbled precariously through the portrait hole, fighting her heels to stay upright. Once inside, she tripped backwards into the cold, stone wall having just noticed Ron standing by a plush armchair near the fireplace, staring right at her. Her stomach did a flip while both hands shot up to wipe away tear tracks and smooth tiny hairs out of her face, and she glared straight back at him.

“Where’s Harry, then!?” she demanded. Hermione noticed a small flicker of annoyance flash across Ron’s face. 

“Gonetobed,” he mumbled.

“As am I! GOODNIGHT Rona-”

“NO! HERMIONE! Can you JUS-”

“Just WHAT Ron? Not quite done berating me for having a date to a BALL?? Do you have MORE baseless reasons for accusing me of Triwizard treason?? Because I think I’ve had enough for one evening, if you don’t mind!”

“I WAS JEALOUS, ALRIGHT?”

She stopped mid-march on her way to the girl’s staircase and whipped around to search for the source of the words. She did a quick scan of the room. Empty. Except for Ron who stood before her, his face scarlet, his ears seemingly on fire. He looked as if someone had just dumped a bucket of red paint on him, and as if he’d prefer nothing more than to be anywhere else.

“You-- you WHAT?”

“Hermione just listen to me, alright? This won’t-- I can’t--” He broke off with a heavy sigh and violently ran both hands through his thick hair. 

“This isn’t going to be easy to say, alright?” he declared, looking back up at her and employing a commanding tone she rarely heard him use. It reminded her of the dangerous chess game they had played first year. “So you just stand right there, and let me get this out. You’re….. You’re my best mate. Alright? But when you showed up for the World Cup this summer, you... seemed different. I mean you looked different, obv-- NO, NO, that’s not what I meant. I mean, it is but-- UUGGGGH!!!”

He walked around the back of the armchair moving closer to her, and she responded with a wary look, stiffening, as if preparing for a nasty jinx.

“I had different feelings for you this summer, alright? And they were confusing and scary because our friendship really matters to me, you know? And I don’t want to mess that up! I would never want to mess that up… But I haven’t figured it out yet, and that’s the problem.”

“Figured what out?”

“I don’t know how to get rid of these feelings, Hermione.”

Her heart sank. She tried to look back at him but his piercingly blue eyes proved too powerful. “You want to... get rid of them?” she whispered.

“OF COURSE I DO! Are you mental? I don’t want to feel this awkward around you all the time! Everytime you stand next to me I notice that you smell like fresh parchment paper. Which smells GREAT, by the way. And I can’t be going around sniffing my best mate, can I?! And your laugh makes me nervous now, which it’s never done before. You’re distracting in class as well!”

“You don’t pay attention in class anyway!” she protested.

“That’s not the point! And even so, you’re the one’s always saying I need to pay better attention! And now you’re all….” -he waved his hands around his head as if to demonstrate bewilderment- “distracting!” 

They stared at one another for a moment before he continued, “I don’t know where these feelings came from, and I don’t know when I’ll be able to get rid of them. But I feel different around you right now. I feel like I don’t want you around Viktor Krum. Ever. And I feel like I want you within my sight all the time- and I know that’s ridiculous, I do!” He clarified in response to her incredulous reaction to the suggestion. “I feel like I want you to sit next to me at breakfast, and that pretty much everyone should try to appreciate you more, me n’ Harry included. And I feel like I want to tell you stuff I never tell anyone...like stuff about my family maybe or… other stuff. So… until I can work this all out, you’re just going to have to handle me being a bit... strange... around you, okay?”

“… Okay.”

“Maybe Fred and George snuck something experimental in my tea over the summer or something, cuz it’s right funny the way my stomach goes when I look at you. I feel sick most of the time.”

“Oh… I’m sorry.”

“I don’t ever want to lose your friendship, Hermione. I mean… who’d do my homework anyway?” She giggled in spite of herself, and a strained smile broke across his face as she did. “I’d never get through Hogwarts without you. And I’d be dead about a hundred times by now without you. So… I’ve got to protect our friendship, right? Cuz that’s most important… us being friends. Right?”

“Yes… us being.. friends. Most important.”

“Don’t tell Harry… okay?” he added, pleadingly.

“No. Of course not. Our secret.”

A heavy silence passed between them, brimming with awkwardness and a fair amount of cuticle and ceiling inspection. It was finally broken by the abrupt appearance of Ginny and Neville casually chatting as they stumbled through the portrait hole. They caught on rather quickly to the fact that they had walked in on a conversation they would prefer to know nothing about, and said a brisk goodnight before running up opposite staircases. “Anyway,” Ron said, watching Ginny’s hem disappear behind a corner, his ears now as red as they were at the start of his confession, “I’m... going to bed. ‘M sorry… about... earlier tonight. I hate it when you cry.”

She felt a sudden, intense urge to close the gap between them and throw her arms around his shoulders, allowing herself a brief moment to imagine burying her face deep into the side of his neck. But nerves were glueing her feet to the ground.

“Well, g’night,” he coughed. And even though he’d said all he had to say, and felt more vulnerable than he ever had before, he found himself fighting the now familiar instinct to kiss Hermione Granger instead of walking upstairs to bed. As he climbed the staircase, his legs and shoes full of lead, he let his imagination finish the kiss while his stomach twisted with guilt, contemplating a world where Hermione was not his friend.

She stood still for a long time after he’d left, staring into the fire, replaying every word of their conversation over and over. And while she understood that their friendship was important, she could not help wondering if his lips tasted anything like chocolate frogs.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this lil diddy years ago for a Christmas themed Romione fest on Tumblr. I just love these two stubborn cuties. I hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
